20. Lena
CHAPTER 20
Lena
“ T hank you for a lovely evening and for inviting me for dinner,” I say as I stand, surprising myself because I actually did enjoy their company.
“I’ll take you home.” Alek springs from his chair, and I’m caught off guard by his eagerness. Well, as eager as someone like Alek can be.
I say my goodbyes to Anya and River and say to him as I begin to walk away, “I can just call an Uber.” But he continues escorting me out of the restaurant. I know he heard me, but me leaving on my own is clearly not an option. I know I should call an Uber, but a part of me wants to spend just a few more minutes alone with him. Something about Alek naturally pulls me in. And I’m trying to figure out if this is another one of those “bad boys” I shouldn’t be falling for.
I silently follow him to his car, which looks different from the other two I’ve been in.
“How many cars do you have?” I ask as he holds open the passenger door.
“A few.”
I slide into the seat, and he shuts the door behind me. And for once, I don’t cringe thinking about his car. Instead, I’m trying not to laugh. Maybe it’s the wine or the ridiculousness of the situation.
I watch him through the windshield as he walks around the hood. Men don’t typically intimidate me, but there’s something about him that holds so much power. You can tell just by looking at him that he is lethal in more ways than one.
He doesn’t like to be touched, though I’m not really sure why. But I hope one day he’ll tell me. I shake my head. Why the fuck am I even curious about Alek? He’s not the type of man a normal girl like me falls for. Alek is bad, that much is obvious. And I’m smarter than this, aren’t I? Yet I’m still in his car.
I also wonder what his obsession with Cinita is. I feel like he’s just waiting until she gets in touch with me or something. Like I’m a placeholder .
As he slips into the driver’s seat, I ask, “Have you stopped looking for her?”
He starts the engine, and I instantly reach to buckle myself in. I’m pretty sure the seat belt saved my life last time, so I’m definitely opting to wear it again. I notice his hands tighten around the steering wheel, and at first, I think he won’t answer me. I mean, he doesn’t have to, and he’s certainly selective as to when he wants to speak.
“No.”
My stomach drops, and I don’t like the way it feels. I can’t seriously like this guy, right?
“What is your fascination with her?” His eyes are dark in the moonlight as they lock on mine before he looks away and continues driving. He doesn’t answer me right away. I’m used to him not responding, so we sit in the car in silence.
What is it about Cinita that has this man in such a chokehold? It can’t be just about beauty. Though, yes, she’s a stunning woman. She moves as if the air was her dance partner. I had never seen anyone dance as expressively as her, and it surprised me that she wasn’t dancing for bigger shows. Cinita can dance, but she’s also a wraith. One moment, she’s there, and the next, she’s vanished.
“I don’t have a fascination with her,” he finally says after about five minutes of silence. “She was at the same orphanage as Anya and me.”
I bite my lip because he makes it sound like that’s explanation enough. But it certainly doesn’t clarify as to what their relationship is now.
“Were you all close growing up?” I ask. Trying to pry information from Alek is like getting into a heavily guarded vault.
“No,” he answers.
Right. So still no real explanation as to what type of relationship they have. One thing I’m pretty sure of is that Anya doesn’t like her. But why should I care what their relationship is like? It’s not like Alek and I are a thing. Sure, we kissed—and it was a hot fucking kiss—but that was it, wasn’t it?
He pulls over to the curb, and I realize we’re in front of my apartment building. As strange as things have been since Alek stepped into my life, I’m also grateful for his generosity and kindness.
I turn to give him my full attention. “Do you want to come up?”
“Do you want to fuck?” he asks boldly.
My jaw drops. “I…”
“I would fuck you, Lena, if you want to,” he adds. I’m pretty sure my eyes bulge from my head at his words .
“I-I meant to see the f-furniture,” I stutter. “Since you bought everything, I thought you might want to see it.” I feel stupid now, realizing it probably did sound like I was propositioning him.
He’s staring at me so intently I can’t look away before he finally says, “Okay.”
I climb out of the car, the awkwardness heavy in the air, more so coming from me than him. Then again, I couldn’t imagine Alek ever being nervous, but now that he’s brought up fucking, it’s all I can think about as we walk up the five flights of stairs.
He waits patiently as I fish my keys out of my bag. My heart is pounding in my chest. I can smell him right next to me, and his words sink further into my head. It’s been over a year since I’ve had a man in my bed. Do I want him in my bed? I’ve thought about it, but he rejected me so epically last time that surely he’s made it clear he’s not interested. I squash the hope of his words from the car. He says he would, but can he really? How does that even work for someone who hates touching people?
“Stop shaking. I didn’t tell you I was going to skin you alive and fuck your corpse.”
“Fucking hell,” I mumble, managing to get the key close to the door. “You do that?”
He smiles, and I can’t help but be mesmerized by it. In a horrific way.
“Skin people? Sure, I’ve done it once or twice. But fucked a corpse? No. I like my women to scream, and dead women can’t scream.” The keys drop from my hand, and he bends down to pick them up. “You dropped these,” he says with a smile, and, fuck me, my panties just melted.
“Go in,” I say with a wave. He steps in first, scanning everything before his gaze lands back on me.
Alek is a very good-looking man, but I never noticed this the first time I met him. It’s hard not to notice that, but he also gives off don’t-fucking-talk-to-me vibes, and he does it very, very well, so I really have no fucking idea where I stand with him.
“I see my card bought a lot of new things,” he says.
“Yes, thank you. Though, it was your sister, not me. I had no idea what half of this stuff is,” I reply, pointing at something on the cabinet that I’m pretty sure doesn’t have any functional use other than looking pretty. “You should test the mattress, though. That is beautiful and ridiculously comfortable.”
“You want me to get in your bed?”
“No. Oh no, I didn’t mean it like that,” I splutter, shaking my head. Fuck, why is everything I’m saying sounding like I’m trying to lead him on? Am I ?
He steps closer to me, inches himself so close that I suck in a breath, and when I do, all the air I breathe is his.
“Are you sure?” he asks, then licks his lips.
Fuck .
He hates to be touched, but he seemed pretty into it last time, didn’t he?
No, stop thinking like that.
This cannot happen.
Again.
“Lena.”
“Hmmm?”
“Say my name.” I look up at him, confused. What does he mean? Then it clicks.
“Aleksandr.” I say his name, and his lips twitch before he moves on me as if snapping his restraint. His gloved hands reach for me, wrap around my waist, and pull me even closer to him.
Shit .
Our bodies are flush against one another, and unlike last time, I can’t sense him lock up. His movements fluid, my need a pounding demand for more.
I want more of this man.
“Last chance to run,” he says, a warning in his tone. I say nothing, just stare at his lips, remembering how he tasted last time. I swallow. “ That’s my answer,” he says before his lips press softly to mine. Who knew this man could be soft in any way? His kisses are perfect. The way his mouth feels against mine before I part my lips and his tongue slides inside.
Perfection.
I don’t want to end this kiss. I’m too afraid if I move my hands on his body in any way, the kiss will stop.
So I surrender to him, because I would like this man to kiss me even on my sickest days because I have a feeling it would make me feel better. That’s the type of kisses this man gives. They’re reviving and life giving. An inferno of pure fucking need.
He’s taller than me, but I have on a pair of heels, so I only have to angle my head up slightly to kiss him more deeply. His tongue tangles with mine, and his hands on my waist pull me even closer, if that were possible, and I feel his hardness.
My breaths are shallow, and I’m not sure if it’s because of the tightness of my dress or if it’s just him.
“This fucking dress is a crime, Lena,” he murmurs, and his slight accent curls my toes. My own discipline snaps as I pull him in, feathering my hands through his hair. He shoves me against the kitchen counter, something falling to the floor in the process.
His lips trail to my neck, and I arch into him, so fucking starved. It’s not because I haven’t been touched in a year.
It’s because I haven’t been touched by this man my entire life.
“Alek.” My breaths are shaky. “Off. I want this dress off,” I say desperately. Because it’s too tight, too limiting to give myself to him.
He cocks a smile as he leans back and pulls out a pocketknife. My breath hitches as I stare at him.
“Do you trust me, Lena?” he asks, and it feels like I’m making a deal with the devil.
It’s not normal. But it’s Alek, and I can see it then, the monster barely hidden under the mask that everyone’s afraid of. But in his gaze, he’s burning for me.
I nod and watch his hand as he traces it between my legs, cutting the bottom of the dress. The material is so close to my skin, I think he might cut into my flesh because it’s so tightly wound around my body, until he puts the knife to the side and rips the dress from the bottom.
The dress is shredded in seconds, and he steps back, appraising me. He looks like a starved man as he stares at me. “Fucking perfect.”
And a flood of relief and warmth fills me.
He grabs my ass and lifts me, lips back on mine, his kisses more intense, which, when you think about it, suits him. But his touch is gentle as he traces my body, as if he’s afraid he’ll break me.
His gloved hands rest on my lower back, not moving, just holding me to him so I can’t escape. But then a phone rings, and I pull back. It’s not mine that’s ringing.
“Do you need to get that?” I ask. He shakes his head and pulls me back to him. This time, I move my hands to his chest. He moans into my mouth, and I move them lower, testing his boundaries.
Here I am, with a man who is infinitely dangerous, and I’m letting him kiss me. Take hold of me as I slide my hands down his chest. I go lower until I get to his belt. My hands start to work the buckle, but he doesn’t slow the kiss, his hands still plastered on my back. When I get the belt undone, I slide my hand inside his pants and feel his hard cock. Fuck, it’s big.
I push against him so I can wriggle out of his arms and land on my feet between him and the counter. He seems confused as I pull back and smile at him. As I drop to my knees, he watches me with hooded eyes.
I set his cock free, and as I study it, I notice his pubic hair is perfectly manicured. Why would he do that? Is it for someone else? I let those thoughts leave my head as I lean in and slide my tongue out to tease his tip .
He moans, and his hand grips my hair, not enough for him to take control, but as if he needs it to ground himself. His phone starts ringing again. He doesn’t make a sound, so I take him in my mouth, my tongue darting lazy circles around him. He groans, not with pleasure this time, as my phone rings too.
We both freeze. I pull my head back and wipe my mouth.
“Ignore it,” he instructs.
Disappointment and unease fall from my lips as I whisper, “That ringtone is Cinita’s.”
I regret it immediately. I wish I never mentioned her name. Because the moment I do, he tucks himself back in and reaches into his jacket for his phone. When he checks the screen, I see Cinita’s name appear as his previous missed calls.
He rushes out of my apartment, leaving me on my knees, a sick stirring flooding my core, which was fueled by an insufferable hunger only seconds ago.
Now I just fucking ache like I swallowed something bitter.